Sort of Getting Out, Not Peacocking

I got a pretty good week of fake riding in last week, coming in just under 100 miles with a shit ton of perceived climbing and vomit inducing efforts. I continue to be surprised at how much I’m enjoying these indoor efforts and how little desire I have to be outside riding in the slop. For now.

There were a few days that I could have probably got out but for the most part, the week was a climate change winter shit show. There were a couple of cold days with light snow, followed by a couple of warm days with fog so dense that it canceled school on Friday and didn’t lift until around 3 PM before returning by 6 PM. “Dank” is the word that would best describe the week.

On Thursday and Friday, I got outdoors with my camera for some quick hikes. I was hoping to get some cool fog shots, but my timing had me arriving in the woods just as the fog was briefly lifting.

I wasn’t going to ride on Saturday, but I forced myself to the Not So Stankment for a 15-mile ride that had me hanging on for dear life as I tried to maintain the pace and take pulls with some random dude from Scotland. I almost puked when I got off of the Hammer.

Later that night Wifey and I had a date night in town and had a good time. As we talked, I found myself opening up about some of the things in the world of cycling that annoy me. One of which is the pissing contest that riders do this time of year. I’ve ridden in my share of snow, ice, rain, wind, slush, and freezing cold temps and much of that has been documented in these digital pages. Most of the time I was just happy that I got something in and got outside, and I was/am never shy about admitting how much I hate cold weather riding.

Now, in these days of social media, many riders feel the need to make sure they hashtag things to make sure you know what tough guys they are and how they would never do something as pedestrian as ride an indoor trainer. That’s fine, to each their own, I just find myself not giving a shit. As I’m sure, they don’t give a shit about my crap rides indoors and out.

I suppose there could be some repressed jealousy on my part, in that I’m not “training” for anything or that I’m fat and old, but I mostly I feel that I’m now in a phase of my life that doesn’t have the energy for ball busting and peacocking.

Having said all that, I will sit up from my therapist’s couch and climb off my digital soapbox and admit that the fog, wet slop and dankness are actually some of my favorite times to ride in and take photos. The warmer days last week had me thinking about thinking about cleaning up the Fatterson that has remained seat-postless and covered in mud since last March or finally putting new Stan’s goo in the PrOcal’s tires. However, laziness got the better of me… for now. It’ll happen soon enough, and when it does I will hashtag the shit out my social media posts with things like #NotZwiftingButIwishWas #FuckWinter #YouCantTellFromAllTheseLayersButMyDickIsHugeBecauseImRidingInTheCold

Time to make some dinner, and prep my camera for B’s 8 PM match in the bubble tonight.


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